


in the shape of god

by a_gently_faded_rainbow



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Body Image, Body Worship, Fluff, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:07:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25058998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_gently_faded_rainbow/pseuds/a_gently_faded_rainbow
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley settle into a soft and cozy routine and then Crowley’s like “What if we have sex and I reassure you that we are our own free spirits.”
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 61





	in the shape of god

They could be like the humans, he thinks. They could be within one another, melting into each other’s bodies in a strange facsimile of life, birth. He likes the place they’ve found themselves in better though. He’s seen humans fucking, seen Hastur and Ligur convince them into it. The intimacy he and Aziraphale have slipped into is infinitely more meaningful than that.

They’ll wake in the late afternoon with the weak London sun casting shivering lights across the plants, the ones Crowley praises far too much, and they’re wilting, he swears it. Aziraphale will curl against his body until blond curls tickle Crowley’s neck and he laughs, shoves Aziraphale away, and they trace the shape of the other in infinite fractals, find the shapes of their issued bodies in lazy motions. 

Crowley makes tea and Aziraphale makes toast and eggs, picks up pastries from the bakery in town sometimes. On the bad days, they’ll discuss dreams of what’s to come. On the good days, Aziraphale will y’all about his latest book, or they’ll turn on the radio and dance, Crowley showing him the latest complicated internet moves while Aziraphale is woefully out of date and they both laugh until their borrowed ribs ache. 

They go to visit Anathema and Newt on weekends, and the kids most days after school. Adam bought some game for roleplaying and the kids will chatter on about their latest adventure, voices overlapping and too excited to be understood, just the soothing background noise of the diverted apocalypse’s children, and the demon and the angel keeping darker dreams from them. 

There will be horrors later. There will always be horror. They’re confident they can divert it, or Anathema and Newt, or the children, or another hero. The ineffable arc of the universe bending towards justice and all that.

So they’re okay to be like this, sitting calmly in the new Bentley on a Saturday night, but Crowley can’t keep stop the thoughts, never could. He’s one for asking questions he maybe shouldn’t, and one just keeps ringing over and over. 

It had started with Anathema pressing a kiss to Newt’s neck after dinner, the faint noise he’d made and the pink spreading over his cheeks, the way she’d pulled away looking very pleased. It wasn’t like tempting humans, wasn’t like sin at all, and he knew the idea of sin was conceptual at best and cruel at worst but this, this was something on his mind. It wasn’t like the soft kisses he and Aziraphale traded in their mornings together. 

So he takes another fall, deeper into trouble. “Wanna have sex?” 

The angel jumps in his seat. “W-What?”

“Well, if Anathema and Newt are doing it, not to be outdone right?”

“Are they really?” 

“Zira, I’ve seen enough humans looking like that to know what it means.”

“Oh. Well. If they’re...I mean...that is, yes I think we rather ought to give it a go.”

“Lord, you’d be easy to tempt.”

“You bloody demon! You absolute…” Aziraphale sputters like a dying engine.

“What was that?”

“Honestly, Crowley, it’s indecent!” 

“We’ve been indecent for millennia, angel.”

He parks the Bentley a bit less carefully than he might, if he weren’t thinking so hard, and they walk inside like they aren’t planning to do...something. It’s not like he’s never done anything. There’s been plenty of men and women he’s laid fingers and forked tongues on, but it’s never been him, and it’s never been his angel. 

Aziraphale flounders in the bedroom, hands flapping like they always do when he’s uncertain. 

“So what are we doing Crowley?”

“I thought I’d get you undressed and see where things went from there.”

“Gabriel…”

“Gabriel’s not here, is he? Gabriel’s just some ass up in the clouds, and you’re right here with me.” 

“Well, yes, but it’s just that he said, you know, that if I were a demon, I’d have an awfully hard time tempting anyone because of…” The angel gestures at himself with a frown. 

“Oh, fuck Gabriel! Do you know angel, what it takes to tempt a demon? It takes something miraculous hm, and you’re a miracle. My miracle.” 

Aziraphale stammers while Crowley fingers his waistcoat thoughtfully, but the angel complies when Crowley moves to slip it off. Aziraphale kisses Crowley like a rom-com parody, and it’s sweet, the way his tongue darts out, still tasting faintly of chocolate cake. 

Crowley catalogues everything, the bend of Aziraphale’s body towards Crowley’s when he unlaces his tie, the whisper of his name over and over like a prayer when Crowley kisses his chest, teases his nipples with sharp teeth, the faint nod before Crowley undoes his pants.

They both have to summon up anatomy, and he’s surprised by the angel's choice, doesn’t say anything, just slips fingers into the already wet opening and drops to his knees before his lover like a Catholic sculpture, a sinner begging forgiveness from a god. Aziraphale’s wings are out, and they curl into Crowley as he licks the angel into a gasping mess, until it is only the rain on the glass and both of them breathing heavily. 

Crowley lowers Aziraphale onto the bed carefully, smiles at his fluttering eyelids, the way he clings to Crowley to keep him close. 

“Aren’t you going to be in me then? Isn’t that the final sin?  _ Tempt me. Make me fall.” _

“Angel, my angel, that’s not what this is. It’s just you, you being beautiful, being mine. I’ll do anything you want, you know that, I’d fly us both to Mars and make you cake in space if you wanted it, but I’m not...this isn’t for  _ them.  _ It’s just us here.”

“It’s never just us, anywhere we go.”

He nips at the angel’s ear, strokes the soft flesh of his sides. 

“Look at me, Aziraphale. Look at what you do to me, to this body, and tell me anyone else could ever be here and make me feel this.” 

Aziraphale’s hands are shaky on Crowley’s jeans, touch soft over his half hard cock and Crowley just stares at him, drinks him in like alcohol in the end times. The angel’s hands roaming Crowley’s back, his ass, settling in his hair as he slips into him, this isn’t sin, erases the idea of it. 

Aziraphale’s voice is shaky as he speaks.

“Could I be on top, perhaps?”

“Oh! Well we’d have to change, you’d have to be different you know?”

“Just like this, I just wanna see you better.” 

“Sure. Course.” 

He can’t explain the feeling in his chest as Aziraphale flips him over, cradles his head while he does it. If Falling could be a blessing, this is that, the feeling of weightless, spaceless nothing. Aziraphale holds himself up carefully until Crowley jerks his hips down and the angel gasps like a Hail Mary or a thousand, and then it’s fast and sharp and endless until it ends and Aziraphale clenches around him and kisses his forehead shaky and too hard and it’s perfect because it’s him, it’s them. 

Crowley curls into Aziraphale’s side afterwards, and lets the angel card fingers through his hair where it’s grown too long at the nape of his neck, thinks he’d let the angel do anything to him.

“Alright, angel?” 

“Alright. I’m hungry now.”

“Want crisps?”

“Not in bed, you’ll complain about the crumbs.”

“Just this once dear, you’ve been so lovely tonight.” 

“Thank you, Crowley, for this. For being tempted, I suppose.” 

“You’ve tempted me since Eden. Those wings and that hair, your robes all messy, you’re a sight.” 

“Well this sight would like some crisps and a kiss.” 

So Crowley has chamomile tea and Aziraphale has cheesy crisps and they sleep in a bed full of crumbs and love.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to chat with me on tumblr @disastroids


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